Ok all, I’ve done my best to write in my authentic voice and take off every layer of mask I find in excavating to find my essence. I haven’t spoken directly, though, about one of the biggest things happening in my life right now. I’ve only pointed at the edges of the void space within me.
It’s tender, and I’m embarrassed.
The truth is that I fell very deeply in love last year. It wasn’t even a “real” relationship, only an almost-relationship that lasted less than a year.
It’s a special, disenfranchised grief to find yourself not even being able to say “my relationship ended” because in a way it never “officially” existed, despite how much time we spent together, how many airplanes we boarded to see each other, or how much intimacy we shared.
Yes, I know this is an artificial label.
No, it doesn’t make it easier.
How did I fall so deeply? I still don’t know.
I do know I miss him more than I miss my ex-husband and the man I nearly married and didn’t but was with for four years. I’ve never missed anyone like this, not even my dad or the granny who raised me. They’ve been gone more than a decade.
When I see particularly beautiful pieces of film, dance, or art, they all remind me of him. I ascend into the bliss of whatever new experience, then crash down when I realize I can’t talk about that beauty with him.
I desire to make sense of it with him. I want to see it through his eyes and search with the octopus tentacles of his consciousness to feel the thing in an entirely different way than my pale fingers do.
I’ve never felt the pain of missing like this. I didn’t know this much pain existed, actually.
I realized last night the meaning of the phrase “I was beside myself.” Ah right, that must be what disassociation feels like. It’s not something that visits me often, but when it does it can put me to bed for days or weeks as it did when I was in Egypt in March.
Beside myself
I was three days in that dim dusty apartment in Maadi
that didn’t have a view of the Nile
You didn’t have a view either in her Pearl
I was beside myself
I was lonely because my bones didn’t contain home
My home became much bigger than my house or my greed
to touch you or feel you touching me
I was beside myself
My spirit had vacated its usual habit and speed
My hurry brought to a startling halt
My body pinned to the bed for days
By the gravity of the deed
I was beside myself
to not be beside you
Myself lost at least temporarily
How could…?
How can I feel you inside me
and yet so far from?
So close as to be me
yet incomprehensible in the trust lost by
your words,
your actions,
your lack of choosing me
How could you not choose me?
How could you not want me in your life?
How could you resent my presence with so much steam?
I give, and I give, and I give all the love that I have
More pours out of me than I knew I had to give
I was beside myself
I was lonely
I didn’t inhabit me
I needed a respite to recharge before feeling
the crushing grief,
the crashing waves of anger,
the spit and the dry
mouth of forgiveness and unforgiving tongues
If I could, I’d write an entire language if that meant
I could speak to you in a way you’d listen and hear
The entire universe arrayed her stars to spell out your name
Everything points at you
Every verse
Every rhythm
Every story
Every new thing that delights my eye or ear
They all cry out to be shared
Every joy
Every pain
I miss you like blood
I miss you like rain
The sharp eyes among you will recognize I used this photo once before for another poem, Some of Us. I wrote the photographer, Craig P. Burrows, to say thanks. What he wrote back made me cry.
Thanks for the credit and letting me know!
For the poem, I don't think you could have chosen too much a better floral subject from my collection.
That plant, Phacelia tancetifolia, is known among other things for having irritating, piercing hairs which when touched can cause pain.
The entire group is also known for having compounds inside it that when the tissue is damaged can hurt the flesh, even causing blisters in more sensitive people.
So, I must say, that's an excellent choice for a poem describing beauty and pain and bringing them together in that way.
Best,
Craig